


Just Let the World Melt

by acefusti138



Series: Now THAT’S What I Call Painful Headcannons! [4]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Charolette Tozier, Coming Out, Dysphoria, Eddie and Richie love each other, Eddie chops off his hair with safety scissors in the boys bathroom, Eddie still breaks his arm, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Modern AU, No Pennywise AU, Original Female Character - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Parental Abuse, Pregnancy, Rating will go up, Richie Tozier Swears, Richie quotes vines to profess how much he loves Eddie rather often, Sonia Kaspbrak is a horrible person and I hate her :), This is probably be gonna have like six or seven chapters maybe??, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Pregnancy, Transphobia, buzzfeed unsolved au, trans!eddie, transphobic slurs, vine references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 11:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13270263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acefusti138/pseuds/acefusti138
Summary: Thinking back on his life from where he was now, with his job, his husband and the absolute joy that was their little girl, Eddie Kaspbrak wouldn't lie to himself and say it’s been easy. It’s not all the sunshine and gay-pride rainbows that Richie sports for him with Charlie at the pride parade. It’s not the sweet, cotton candy pink-and-blue trans flags that he’s waving at the parade either.It’s been blood, it’s been tears, it’s been years of dysphoria. It’s been years of depression with slips of self-harm and nights spent in the bathtub with Richie holding him with a damp washcloth held firmly against his thigh. It’s been hours awake every night with a newborn who has just been fed and left Eddie in a dysphoria-induced anxiety attack. It’s been a week without sleep after a viral video outed him to the world. It’s been being shoved down the stairs so violently by his mother that he was left infertile. It’s been hell and back.But he would rather let the world melt than change any of it.





	Just Let the World Melt

**Author's Note:**

> Wow so?? Back at it again?? With more of this shit?? Idk this may be my favorite story I’ve ever written. This was so much fun to write, and me and Oliver rp this too. We love our spooky boys way too much.

Thinking back on his life from where he was now, with his job, his husband and the absolute joy that was their little girl, Eddie Kaspbrak wouldn't lie to himself and say it’s been easy. It’s not all the sunshine and gay-pride rainbows that Richie sports for him with Charlie at the pride parade. It’s not the sweet, cotton candy pink-and-blue trans flags that _he’s_ waving at the parade either.

It’s been blood, it’s been tears, it’s been years of dysphoria. It’s been years of depression with slips of self-harm and nights spent in the bathtub with Richie holding him with a damp washcloth held firmly against his thigh. It’s been hours awake every night with a newborn who has just been fed and left Eddie in a dysphoria-induced anxiety attack. It’s been a week without sleep after a viral video outed him to the world. It’s been being shoved down the stairs so violently by his mother that he was left infertile. It’s been hell and back. It’s been a hot wind of hell blowing in his face with years of emotional roller-coasters cooling the heat—and honestly, if it meant he couldn’t be where he was now, he didn’t mind the ride. He wouldn’t mind it for the rest of his life.

* * *

His childhood in Maine, for the most part, had thankfully been locked away in his memory and he was glad to forget most of it. A few things hadn’t changed from his childhood; Richie Tozier was still his best friend and stuck by him through thick and thin. But how Richie had stayed by his side had changed. It changed most on the day he grabbed a pair of safety scissors from art class and dragged Richie down to the men’s restroom, despite the confused protest of “Uh, Ed—!”

“Shut up Richie,” His voice cracked like he was on the verge of tears—because he was— and how, in the relative safety of the bathroom, he had broken down in tears. Richie was terribly confused, kneeling down and trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Edith, hey, hey, talk to me. What’s happenin’?” His tone was soft and caring but the name wasn’t his.

“Richie, please, _please_ , don’t call me that.” Eddie had actually felt Richie take the scissors out of his hands, before looking up at him. Clad in a sweater much too big and baggy jeans, shoulder length-hair left messy and awkwardly shoved into his sweater to try and hide it, Richie blinked a few times.

“But I didn’t call you—”

“ _Edward_. Richie, _Edward_. N-Not… Not Edith.” It was like the light bulb flickered to life over Richie’s head, before his already-impossibly-big eyes seemed to widen under the Coke Bottle frames, a look of realization dawning on his face. He reached up, and Eddie flinched for a moment, before hearing a small ‘click’ and realizing Richie had locked the door.

“You want all that dumb hair off, don’t you?” Richie hummed, fiddling with the scissors absentmindedly. He didn’t seem at all mad…. Shouldn’t he have been disgusted? Eddie was— he was _unnatural_ , he was _ill_ , just like his mother said—! “C’mon Eddie, don’t gimme that deer-in-the-headlights look! You know I’m here for yah one-billion percent!” When Eddie looked away uncomfortably, Richie frowned, “Right?” Eddie stayed quiet, and Richie sat down heavily in front of him. Their knees were touching, Eddie noticed, trying to keep his mind out of his current situation. “Hey, Eds– ah, shit, is it okay if I still call you that? Fuck, I’m not good at this, Bev is usually coaching me through this kinda shit— Anyways, listen, man, I’m never gonna _not_ be here for you. Edith, Edward, Eucalyptus– You’re my best friend, if it means you’re happy, I’ll fight anyone who tries to stop it!”

Eddie cracked his first smile in a week at ‘Eucalyptus’, giving a soft giggle and playfully pushing Richie away. “Just… Just Eddie is fine. I know I tell you not to call me Eds, but… If you kept calling me it i’m not gonna get mad.” That was a ‘yes’ in Richie’s book, and he grinned.

“Perfect. Now c’mon Eddie-Spaghetti, lets get that crummy hair off. I wanna see my Eds smile again!” He chimed, Eddie immediately groaning.

“No, no, absolutely _not_ , you are not calling me ‘Eddie-Spaghetti’ Richie!”

Richie just helped him stand up, going over to the sinks and grinning again. “Why not? That’s what make you so chuckalicious, Eds!” And though Eddie hadn’t been happier in his life than he had been in the moment when Richie lobbed off his hair up to his ears in the grimy, middle school bathroom with stolen safety scissors, his world came crashing down that night.

Literally.

* * *

He had come home to find his mother left a note on the refrigerator: _‘Edith, baby, Mommy will be at work until 7 tonight. I made you some dinner, it’s in the fridge. Make sure you take your pills and don’t open any windows, you know how bad your allergies can get this time of year. Love you lots, Mommy xoxo’._ Eddie had crumpled it up once he caught sight of his name, leaving his dinner untouched as he worked on homework in his bedroom. When the front door opened at 7:02, he sighed, internally bracing himself for whatever came next. He could hear his mother tromping up the squeaky steps to the second floor, and instinctively took a breath from his inhaler. “Edith, sweetie, I’m home!” She called, opening the door to his room and dropping the plate of cookies she had brought with her to the floor. The loud crash of porcelain hitting the hardwood floor brought her back to reality, and her massive face purpled. “What did you do to your hair?!” She squawked. Eddie backed up a bit at the loud tone before standing up straight and holding his ground.

“I cut it, Ma. And that’s not my name.” He said cooly, his face hardening as he tried not to crack under her furious glare.

“Edith, why on earth would you cut off all your hair?!”

“I told you that wasn’t my name, Ma! It’s Edward! I’m a boy, Ma! I’m not a girl, and my name is _not Edith_!” The room went quiet, Eddie panting from his sudden, intense yelling, and his mother turning a very odd shade of puce. Her pudgy hand tightened into a meaty fist, and Eddie had half a mind to duck out of the room. When he saw her step forward with a very unsettling look in her eye, he did. He ducked under her, trying to ignore the painful shards of ceramic that dug into the soft soles of his bare feet as he ran. He only got to the staircase before she grabbed his wrist with her hand. His right wrist, which had only had it’s cast removed two weeks ago, was tender, and he yelped in pain, trying to tug her off of him. “Let go of me Ma!” He cried, feeling part of his foot slip on the side of the first stair.

“Edith, I’m doing this because I love you. You need to learn that just because you are sick, it doesn’t give you the right to act insane. You are a _girl_ , and that’s the last I’m speaking of this subject.” She said firmly.

Eddie’s face reddened, and in a snap of fury, he screeched. “ _My name is Edward you fucking cow!_ ” He felt a lotion-dampened hand smack hard across his face, and then felt the bruising grip on his right wrist release. The impact of the smack had him losing his balance, tumbling backwards down the stairs and feeling a shooting pain in his abdomen, which was currently pinning his left arm underneath him. He could feel his elbow digging almost violently into his abdomen, and his head felt fuzzy. His ears were ringing and black spots danced in his vision mockingly; his entire body felt like he had been shoved under cold water and like his head was full of wooly cotton.

His mother left him there all night.

* * *

He had slept on the floor that night, and awoke to agonizing pain in his abdomen and elbow. His mother was gone, and his pants were stained and sticky with— Blood? He knew what a period was, but he was fourteen, his doctor’s had said with his illness he might not even get it until he was eighteen—!

It wasn’t his period. He had managed to crawl to his feet, and weakly got upstairs, collapsed into his bathtub, and turned the shower on, clothes and all. He could barely move his left arm from how much pain his shower was in, his eyes couldn’t focus on the letters spelling out ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ on the shower dial, and he literally couldn’t move without his abdomen screaming in pain. He stayed there all day, his mother hadn’t come home and he was convinced he was going to die like this. Then a loud crash came from his window, a call of ‘Eds’ and then a frantic hiss of ‘Oh fuck’ before there was a clumsy yelp of pain from a familiar voice. _Richie_. “Eds, Eds?! Fuck, Eds are you in here?! Eddie!” The door to the bathroom burst open and Eddie winced. The floor was covered in smeared blood from his jeans, his lips were blue from the icy cold water he couldn’t move to turn off, and he was wearing his clothes _in the shower_. “Holy _shit_ ,” Richie croaked, rushing to turn off the water and try and get Eddie out of the tub. He saw the heavily swollen smack mark on Eddie’s cheek, and the beginnings of a black eye, and sighed. “She– She did this, didn’t she?” He whispered.

Eddie just groaned weakly in pain; even with the water off, the steady flow of blood between his legs hadn’t stopped. “She pushed me down the stairs.” He croaked, starting to shake in the older boy’s arms; Richie stood up and scrambled to find a phone.

“Yeah, hi, 911, it’s a big-ass fuckin’ emergency. Some batshit crazy bitch of a mother shoved her son down the stairs and smacked him for being a boy with a vagina. Wha— Oh for fucks sake— He is bleeding severely between his legs through fucking _jeans_ , lady! He has a black eye and his pupils are dilated like he had a concussion, his left elbow is almost fucking backwards! Now get someone here or I’m having Wentworth Tozier sue your fucking ass! Even if he’ll beat mine!” Richie got the ambulance there, in the end it didn’t matter what he had said. Eddie had been admitted to the hospital, still under Sonia’s name, and there it was determined he had fractured his elbow, needed stitches on his foot from the glass shards, and had a minor concussion. But the most dangerous issue, one that would have killed him if Richie had come five minutes later, was the impact from his elbow. It had ruptured his womb and almost caused him to bleed to death. From that day forward until the day he turned eighteen, he never let word of the name Edward slip to his mother ever again.

* * *

The day Eddie turned eighteen, one week before he graduated from high school, was the best day of his life. He cut off all his hair again, as his mother forced him to wear it long, burned every dress and skirt he owned, and cracked open his piggy bank. He legally changed his name to Edward John Kaspbrak that day, as a male. Richie helped him— it had been no surprise that he would have. Richie had been working at a diner to help get money to pay for college, and a bookstore as well. Eddie had worked as a paid intern for a nursing program to save up money for the legal gender and name change. He kept worrying that he wouldn’t have enough money, even as he had stood there with Richie while the woman behind the desk filled out the paperwork and counted the money. “You still need two-hundred and fifty-three more dollars, Kaspbrak.” The lady’s voice was scratchy like sandpaper and Eddie was frozen. His palms had started to sweat and he looked like he was about to faint, when Richie grabbed his wallet.

“Two-hundred and fifty-three dollar’s ya said? Alright Eds, here ya go. Two-hundred and fifty-three dollars. Spontaneous birthday gift from me ta’ you.” Eddie stared in shock, but quickly handed the money over to the lady. He officially became Mr. Edward J. Kaspbrak on that day, and refused to let Richie live it down.

* * *

“Richie, how am I supposed to pay you back?!” Eddie moaned, one week into summer vacation and beyond-stressed, the pair lounging in Richie’s room. He had gathered up his belongings and crashed in Richie’s room, having dropped all contact with his mother at midnight of the day he had turned eighteen. Richie just shrugged lightly, which Eddie didn’t take well to. “Seriously! You’re letting me stay here, you dipped into your own college savings so I could legally be who I am—!” Richie looked up at him from his _Rolling Stones_ magazine, an eyebrow raising lazily at the younger boy.

“Eds, did I ever say you had to pay me back?” He asked, Eddie going red.

“W-well, no, but— Richie, you spent two-hundred and fifty-five dollars of your own college money just to help me! I can’t let that go without repaying you! You know how horrible of a friend I would be?!” Richie sat up at that, dog-earing the magazine page he had been on before tossing it to the floor. Eddie was sitting cross-legged in front of his best friend— he still looked much too worried for someone who did _so much_ as it was. Richie gently grabbed him by his cute, freckled cheeks and gave a deep sigh, labored sigh.

“You already _did_ pay me back, you silly boy. You’re happy. Remember when you had me cut your hair in the boys bathroom in eighth grade? How I said I would support you if you were Edward, Eucalyptus or anything else? That still stands. It’s always gonna stand. That’s all I want. That’s all I ever want for you; you’re my Eddie-Spaghetti.” Their faces were incredibly close now, and Eddie grabbed Richie’s heavily freckled cheeks with his own, lotion-soft palms. He closed his eyes, and then they had kissed. Not urgent, frantic kisses that belonged in a shitty porn novel one could buy for a dollar at the gas station— No. It was as cheesy as the Disney movies Eddie insisted they watch every Friday night. Eddie’s lips were tingling and Richie felt like he had been zapped with static electricity in every place where they were touching. By the time they had pulled off of each other, Eddie was red and panting, and Richie had instinctively reached to his pocket to grab the spare inhaler he always kept for Eddie just in case, despite Eddie not having used once since he had started high school.

“That was— ‘Chee, I–”

“ _Yowzah_ Eds!” Richie couldn’t stop beaming, the tooth-gapped grin that Eddie had fallen in love with seemed to brighten the room, and before Eddie could catch himself, he had let loose the one thing everyone else in the world seemed to have known before he did.

“God I love you.”

* * *

California was a lot hotter than Eddie had been expecting. Even after almost two years of a full-ride scholarship in nursing at the same college Richie was attending in California, he wasn’t use to the sweltering heat. Sure, California was amazing; it had him happily cutting the strings that had bound him to Derry, Maine with only a wistful look back at the place where he had met the love of his life and his best friend. But it was _hot_.

“Richie, remind me again _why_ you refuse to buy a better fan?” He groaned, flopping onto his tiny dorm-room bed and fanning himself with his hand. For early September, it was still sweltering in the high nineties and he was _melting_. One would think after all this time here, he would have gotten used to the heat. Wrong.

“Because our current one works fine, babe. You’re not melting, don’t be dramatic. That’s my job.” Richie grinned, though he was currently laying on his own bed reading some shitty, off-brand magazine in only his underwear.

Eddie glowered at him. “Fuck off. I’ll come over there and melt on you, jerk!” He cried, standing up in a burst of energy before losing it and flopping back down on his stomach this time. “I lied. I’m not moving. I’m just gonna lay here and melt until your lazy ass goes out and gets a better fan.”

“Babe, how am I supposed to save up for top surgery if I keep spoiling you?” Oops.

“Wait, _what_?”

“And _I just said that out loud_ , didn’t I? Fuck. Well. Shit. There goes your Christmas present. Uh… Happy early Christmas babe?” Richie got no response, and looked over at Eddie, he was suddenly very quiet. “Shit— Eddie? Hey, Eddie, are you okay? Fuck, was that too much– I know I should have talked with you first but I found a really good doctor and she said she’s incredibly careful and hasn’t had a single patient have any problems after the surgery—”

“Richie,” Eddie sniffled, _Oh fuckballs he’s crying, look with you did Richie_ , “Y-You’ve been s-saving up… T-To get me top-transition surgery?” He croaked. Richie had paid for Eddie to start of hormones within the first week of them moving to California, which Eddie’s scholarship quickly covered. Now this?

“L-Listen, Eddie if you’re mad—” Richie was met with a tiny blur of sunburned, freckled cuteness slamming into him with a chest-crushing hug.

“How the fuck could I be mad you at?!” Eddie refused to move his head from where it was residing in Richie’s shoulder, “You’re the best person I could have ever known… I love you so fucking much Richie, g-god, how the hell did I manage to be with someone as wonderful as you?” Richie just grinned at him.

“Well, you see when someone as incredibly wonderful as myself meets a cute little Eddie-Spaghetti such as yourself–”

“– _And_ you ruined it.”

“—We find that we’d do anything to see you happy. I would do anything to see you happy Eds. I see how much you talk about the pros and cons of it. I see you researching it. I couldn’t… I couldn't stand by and watch you wish so hard for something and not try and bring it to you myself. I’d rather die,” Eddie peeked his head up to smile through tears and snot dripping down his cheeks. Richie brushed some of Eddie’s humid-dampened curls out of his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You’re my fuckin’ cinnamon apple, Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“Did you just make a fucking _Vine_ reference, Richie—?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Richie loves his fucking cinnamon apple


End file.
